Five Times Jake Stone Didn't Make a Move and One Time He Did
by Microsuede Mouse
Summary: Cassandra is dying. So if Jake doesn't make the first move, it won't happen. She won't burden anyone with a doomed girlfriend they didn't ask for.


So this is the other thing I mentioned. It turned out much longer than I originally planned... oops. But! I'm pretty happy with it. And I have more ideas I can't wait to try.

Notes on specific sections:  
2 - I live in Ontario, guys. All my information about Oklahoma weather comes from a Wikipedia page. Hopefully I did not make any grievous, suspension-of-doubt-shattering errors.  
3 - fun fact, this one was inspired entirely by what I was eating for dinner while I wrote and the fact that my dorky theatre tech boyfriend literally always has a knife in his pocket.

Really hope you enjoy. If you have a minute, I'd love to hear what you think. Cheers.  
[cross-posted to AO3]

* * *

Cassandra knows there's some cognitive dissonance in her worldview. As much as she possibly can, she intends to live life on her own terms. Being a Librarian only increases her conviction on that point, every day. She also does her best to follow her heart, especially since Collins Falls. There's more to life than math and science. Of course she's known that for a long time, but she's _learning_ it now.

All that said, she is still abundantly aware that she is dying.

She knows what death does to people. Better than many. For a few years she tried to be part of one of those support groups for kids like her. And it wasn't that she didn't like it there. To have others around you who really understood – it could be a real blessing. But you could only watch so many of those people die before it became unbearable. The grief of loss was hard, but seeing what that grief could do to the people closest to the deceased was even harder. She had seen it all now. She knows what kind of heartbreak the people who love her will feel, one day far too soon.

So in some matters, Cassandra doesn't follow her heart. She hopes and wishes and daydreams, but she doesn't act. Because she will not burden anyone with a steadily-dying lover they didn't ask for.

1.

Cassandra never thought she'd rue going months without hallucinating so intensely it was followed by fainting. It wasn't really that she missed the nosebleeds or the fuzzy blackness closing in around her vision – but she missed the warm arms that were always holding her up when she came to a few seconds later. She missed him watching her face intently, waiting for her signal that she could stand again. Anything was better than bruised hips and shoulders from collapsing to the floor day after day, but as ways to return from a fainting spell went, being caught over and over by Jacob Stone had to be pretty up there. If you had asked her before about her ideal partner, "rugged cowboy genius" probably would not have occurred to her as a possibility, but every time he talked her through the vivid confusion of synesthetic sensations or caught her as she fell, she found herself just a little bit fonder. Every time her eyes refocussed on his face he was a little bit handsomer.

But it had been a while. She didn't know why and she probably never would – tumours work in mysterious and unpredictable ways. She had noticed that he still stood nearby when she was calculating, but he hadn't had to catch her in a while. It was both good and bad. Of course she liked it when her health was good, but she missed the excuse for contact, even though it didn't make any real sense. She knew she _should_ care a lot more about her health than about a good-looking guy she worked with, and really she did, but she still felt sad that they didn't get those moments any more. Yes, she was adamant that she could take care of herself, but it was good to know that someone was there for her at those times when she couldn't.

But one day she fell deep into her little trance and began not to faint, but to lose her balance. They didn't have the best footing there in the mountains. Then she felt a warm hand grip her elbow and while most of her was still working on the problem, something far in the back of her consciousness recognized that familiar presence anchoring her, both physically and mentally. Distantly she heard her name: "Cassie, Cassie." Drawing her away from the point where she'd been stuck, reminding her that fog didn't only mean peanut butter, peanut butter, _peanut butter_ but also after-school oboe practice with Mr. Jackson, Mr. Calum Jackson who before teaching music had been a meteorologist-

There it was.

Someone thanked her, someone else urged people to keep moving. That warm hand on her elbow didn't falter, kept her steady as she wobbled, finally returning to herself. Jacob was in front of her, eyes on her face, one hand on her right arm, the other hovering a few inches from her left side, ready to catch her if she needed it.

"Thank you," she breathed into the damp air around her.

"It's what I'm here for," he assured her.

"The others-"

"Are carryin' on without us," he explained. "The more people go in there the messier and less predictable things get. We're safer to leave this next step to Baird and Jones."

"Oh," Cassandra said quietly, nodding. After an episode like that the inside of her head was, for a few moments at least, just as foggy as the mountain where they stood. She was still trying to catch up with herself. "How long?" Some part of her realized that her question was very vague, but he seemed to know what she was asking.

"Jones thought it'd take maybe half an hour," he answered. She swayed slightly and his hovering hand came to rest, ever so lightly, on her other arm. "Do you wanna sit down while we wait?"

She nodded, and he led her carefully to a nearby boulder that was steady enough, and big enough, to seat them both, albeit cozily. Her head seemed to clear as he perched next to her, their hips pressed together. "That was disorienting. Sorry," she said slowly.

"You're okay now?" he asked. She looked into his concerned face and got caught on his gaze, so genuine and caring and deep it momentarily disarmed her.

"Yeah," she answered after a moment. "I'm okay. Hungry, though."

He smiled and reached into his pocket, producing a crumpled but intact zip-lock bag of trail mix. "It's not much, but it's somethin'."

"Thank you," she said again, smiling as she took it from him, trying not to think about their fingers brushing. "Do you want any?"

He shook his head. "Nah, I had some earlier."

She took a handful out of the bag and tossed some of it into her mouth, chewing for a moment. She made a bit of a face and looked down into her hand.

"Somethin' wrong?" he asked.

"Sorry," she said. "I didn't notice the almond slices. Not a huge fan. I'll still eat it, though."

"Sorry 'bout those." He reached for her hand and spread her fingers flat, tracing his fingertips across her hand as he picked the almond slices out of what was left in her palm. "Here, I'll eat 'em."

Cassandra blushed slightly at the gentle contact, unable to stop herself from looking up at his face again. Jake smiled so softly at her as he took his hand back, and there was something in his face, and for a moment she wondered, she hoped against hope. One of his hands paused halfway to his mouth, their eyes locked for a little bit too long. "Cassie, I…" Then suddenly he swallowed and coughed a little and returned his attention to the almond slices in his hands. "I'll keep pickin' 'em out for you if you want," he offered, his tone just a fraction more hesitant than she was used to hearing.

"That's really sweet of you," she answered quietly.

2.

Cassandra hissed in pain as her fingers grazed the red skin at the back of her neck. "Ezekiel," she groaned, "you're very bad at applying sunscreen."

He grimaced, clearly feeling a little guilty. "What can I say? Never really use the stuff myself. I just tan," he joked awkwardly.

"I knew a case in the desert was a bad idea," she moaned. "And I knew that asking you to help with my sunscreen was a bad idea."

"Sorry, Cass," Eve called across the Annex, standing behind her desk and trying to sort through the items they'd brought back. "I would've done it, you know, but my hands were full…"

"I know," Cassandra said. "It's not your fault. I probably should have asked Jacob for help, not Ezekiel. You know, I don't know why I even go out in the sun. I know what's going to happen."

"At least I can help with the aftermath," Jacob said as he emerged from the hallway. "C'mere, darlin', this should help." He motioned for her to perch on the edge of a desk in front of him, and on the desktop he dumped the contents of his arms. He passed her a water bottle to start with. "Stayin' hydrated is your first step." Then, from behind her, he squeezed a green dollop of aloe vera gel onto his hands and began to rub it into the burns on the backs of her neck and arms, sliding his fingers underneath the straps of her tank top. She sighed with relief.

"Jones," Eve called. "Come give me a hand putting all this away. I don't know where Jenkins has gotten to but I don't have enough hands for all of these."

"Coming," Ezekiel answered in exasperation, sounding like a put-upon teenager answering his mother, but he followed the Guardian out of the Annex and into the Library proper pretty readily.

Cassandra sat on the desk and leaned her head forward as Jacob rubbed the soothing gel into her skin. "Better?" he asked. She nodded. It wasn't just the aloe; his firm but gentle touch on still-tense muscles made her want to melt into him completely. It could be hard to relax after some cases, but damn if this didn't do the trick. "Good. In a few more minutes, when that dries a bit, I've got a cool milk compress ready for your neck. That should help for a while."

"Milk?" she asked, already missing his hands on her arms. "I always just used a cloth and cold water."

He shrugged as he circled around in front of her. "I grew up with it," he answered. "Oklahoma summers can get pretty hot, but we used to stay outside from May right through September. Once when I was eleven I managed to go a whole week without goin' into the house even once. No matter how much my mom reminded me to use sunscreen, I always used to get one or two real good burns in before the summer was out."

Cassandra laughed lightly. "A whole week? How'd you manage that?"

He grinned, hands in his pockets, and leaned against the edge of the desk next to her. "Mostly campin' in the yard. And then in my buddy's yard. Peein' in the bushes and countin' on our moms to take pity and bring our food out to us. And dinners were barbecue more often than not, so that was already outside. Really we just wanted to see how long we could last."

"What sent you in in the end?" she asked, enjoying listening to him talk about his childhood. He didn't tell stories about himself very often.

"Thunderstorm," he answered simply. "Our summers get dry as hell, punctuated by a heavy rain just once in a blue moon. We thought we could tough it out but it was a big one. Had to give in and trek inside once our tent flooded."

"That sounds like fun," Cassie said with a smile. "I've never been camping, even in the backyard. My parents didn't see any real value in it."

"Well that's a damn shame," Jacob answered, turning to look at her. Their shoulders were bumping together; he tried not to pay any attention. Still grinning, he said, "We should go sometime. You oughtta go campin' at least once in your life."

"We should?" she asked, eyebrows raised in surprise.

"Yeah. I mean… the Librarians," he clarified quickly, gesturing vaguely around the room. "You know, all of us. A Library campin' trip. Bet we could find everything we need right here if we wanted."

Suddenly she laughed, looking down. "I wonder if we could convince Jenkins to go," she giggled.

He laughed, part of him unable to tear his eyes away from her smile. "A little hard to imagine, although I'm sure he had to do it often enough back in the day." Swallowing, trying to drag his gaze away from her laugh, her eyes, the bare skin of her neck where she'd pulled her hair around the opposite shoulder to let him get at her burns, he reached up and brushed the skin of her arm. She looked up at him in surprise again.

Jacob couldn't afford to get lost in those wide blue eyes. He yanked his hand away. "Just checkin' on that aloe vera," he said, his mouth suddenly dry. He looked over his shoulder and grabbed the cloth that sat behind them in a bowl from the kitchen. "Here, you should be dry enough for this to help by now." Carefully he draped it around her neck.

"Ah, that does feel really good," Cassandra sighed, her shoulders falling and eyes closing as she relaxed.

"Glad to help," he answered softly, studying her face for a quiet moment. Then he forced himself away from the desk. "I should be goin'. I gotta get sand outta all kinds o' places."

"Yeah," she agreed. "A shower sounds good."

"Walk you out?" he offered, exercising some effort not to think about Cassandra and showers at the same time.

"Sure."

3.

Jacob glanced up from his work when he heard Cassandra mutter "Oh, rats!" from her desk. Lifting his head, he saw her assembling what he assumed was her lunch on a paper towel in front of her. Out of a plastic container she had produced a brick of sliced cheddar and a pile of round crackers; in her hand was a vibrant green apple.

"What's up?" he asked curiously.

She glanced up in surprise. "Oh. Nothing, really. I just- I don't usually cut my apple in the morning because then it browns by lunch time. Normally I pack a knife and cut it whenever I eat. But I forgot it today. It's not a big deal," she explained, laughing a little sheepishly at herself.

"Oh, that all?" He got up from his seat and reached into his pocket, pulling out a folding blade as he approached her. "I can help with that. Here." Leaning his elbows against the back edge of her desk, he picked up her apple and began to slice it against his thumb.

"Oh, thank you," she answered with a smile. She watched his hands briefly, noticing how deft and casual his movements were. "Do you just… carry that around?"

"Anytime," he said with a nod. "And old habits, I guess. I think just about everyone who works a labour job takes to carryin' some kinda knife around. You pretty much always need it." He pared a small bruise off the outside of the apple, laying the slices down on her paper towel as he went, not in any rush.

"I guess that makes sense," Cassandra agreed. Jacob had assumed that the cheese was for the crackers, but he watched with interest as she laid a slice of cheddar on top of an apple slice and bit into them together. She noticed his expression and laughed slightly.

"I grew up with apple and cheese, but not everyone did, I guess," she said.

He shook his head, tossing the apple core into the wastebasket next to her desk and wiping the knife blade against the corner of her paper towel before folding it back away. "New to me." He watched her take another bite, and then asked cautiously, "Can I try? I've always been more of a Golden Delicious guy than Granny Smith, but now you've got me curious."

"Of course." She had just paired two more slices, and without giving it any thought, she simply held them out across the desk for him to take a bite out of.

Briefly amused, Jacob smiled, then took a bite from the apple slice hovering directly in front of him. The apple was crisp and sour, but it went well with the medium-aged cheddar. Cassandra raised her eyebrows, waiting for a verdict, and he gave her a thumbs up.

"Pretty good," he admitted, smiling again.

"Always been one of my favourites," she told him with a grin, popping what was left in her hand into her mouth. "Thanks for the hand, Jake. Jacob."

He levered himself off her desk, trying to drag his gaze away from her brilliant smile. "Jake is fine, y'know," he said slowly, willing himself away. If he didn't move now, he'd stand here and smile stupidly at her and let her feed him lunch until there was nothing left. That was neither polite nor wise.

"Okay. I wasn't sure. You always hassle Ezekiel when he calls you that…"

"Only 'cause I don't want him thinkin' we're pals," Jake explained with a wink.

Cassandra lit up yet again. "So am _I_ allowed to think we're pals?"

The smile on her face nearly killed him where he stood. "'Course," he told her, swallowing drily. "And you're welcome. Thanks for lettin' me try it. I think I'm gonna have to go buy myself some Granny Smiths now."

4.

Jake did not typically consider himself the jealous type, especially considering the fact that he had no actual claim to Cassandra. Nonetheless, it was starting to irk him the way that one bartender at their favourite bar liked to flirt with her. It had started casually enough, with him just asking her the occasional question when it was her turn to go grab the next round. What was her name? Had she lived in the area long? Where did she work? But it had been a couple months now and it took her longer and longer to come back with the drinks. He'd strike up a conversation, crack a few jokes. Jake would glance over to see if she was on her way back yet and she'd be leaning against the counter, one heel popped up off the ground, _laughing_.

It was hard not to show that he was irritated. He was a little glad that lately Eve hadn't come along as often, because she read him like a book and he knew it. Once it came up on one of the rare occasions that Jenkins joined them, and Jake had caught the older man watching him curiously, and a little too knowingly. He didn't think Ezekiel had caught on yet – whenever the younger man noticed Jake glancing worriedly back to the bar, he complained about Cassandra taking too long with the drinks, apparently assuming that was Jake's only concern.

The problem was, there wasn't much Jake could do to prevent it. They'd always taken turns buying rounds; he couldn't just make her stop. And if for some reason everyone started buying their own drinks she'd still have to go up there. He couldn't see any way around it, so he just gritted his teeth and did everything he could not to show how much it bothered him when she hung around the counter for a few minutes to chat with the guy.

Finally there was an evening that she came back with their beers, still laughing to herself, and he couldn't help asking, "What were you two talkin' about over there?"

"Hm?" she asked, passing Ezekiel his bottle. "Oh, Curtis? Nothing important, he's just a bit of a joker," she answered with a smile. "He always remembers what we talk about though, from one visit to the next. Really nice guy."

"Of course he's a nice guy," Ezekiel said with a shrug. "Bartenders flirt with anyone they can." He caught a sudden sharp look from Jake and added, frowning, "What? It's a great way to get better tips."

"That does make sense," Cassandra admitted, taking a sip of her drink. "I do tend to get the impression it's genuine though. He's just really sweet."

Jake knew he was shooting himself in the foot here, but he raised his eyebrows at her and said, "He does seem awfully into you, darlin'."

"Aw, jeez," she said, waving him off but grinning despite herself. "I'm sure he really is just being friendly."

Ezekiel interrupted by jumping to his feet. Following his gaze, Cassandra and Jake spotted the young brunette he'd been flirting with every time he saw her for the last month, and they chuckled as he wagged his eyebrows and tipped his beer towards them quickly by way of farewell and then dashed off to put his moves on the girl. Rolling her eyes, but still smiling, Cassandra turned back to Jake, now her only companion in their little booth.

For a moment or two they were quiet, and then, self-consciously touching her hair, Cassandra asked, "I dunno, do you actually think he likes me?" She shot a glance over her shoulder towards the bar.

Jake twisted the beer in his hands for a second. "I mean," he answered slowly. "I've seen people flirt casually, and I've seen people flirt like they care what happens, and I would put him in the latter category when you're up there." He didn't meet her eyes as he took another sip.

She made a thoughtful little sound, putting one elbow on the table and propping her chin on her fist. "I guess I don't _mind_ being flirted with," she reasoned. "But I don't think I'd go on a date with the bartender. You know, if he asked."

"No?" Jake asked, hoping he still sounded nonchalant.

She shook her head. "Nah. Dating someone you don't already know can be awkward to start with, but when you have…" she tapped her head. "It's just not very practical. Trying to tell someone about that when all they wanted was to go out for coffee or something? I mean, when do you do it? Early on, so they know what they're getting into? That seems heavy. But you also don't want to wait until they're super invested and _then_ drop a bomb like that…"

He was willing to look at her again now. "Yeah, I can see how that would make it complicated," he agreed. After a brief pause, she looked over and met his eye, and he said, "Sorry."

She shrugged. Tonight it wasn't bothering her – just a fact of her life. "I've learned to live with it. I mean, it's been part of the equation for so long. I had never dated when I was diagnosed, so it's never not been a consideration."

"So… I guess you prefer to date people you know?" he asked, immediately kicking himself. He knew how that must sound.

She looked at him carefully for just a second or so, but then seemed to let it go. "Yeah. Not that I've ever had much of a social circle. Really just a couple coworkers from back at the hospital in New York. Never anything serious, more of a few-dates-and-then-back-to-work-friends sort of thing."

This time Jake managed to bite his tongue before saying the first thing that occurred to him, which was that she deserved more than that, and it was a shame no one had seen the way she completely outshone a mere tumour. Instead, he told her, "As long as _you're_ happy, I don't see anythin' wrong with that."

"Once in a while it's lonely," she confessed. "But I've learned to handle it. And mostly… things are going pretty well right now." She smiled at him, broad and sweet, and he swore it was the drink that made the world around her go a little dim, not that he'd ever been such a lightweight before.

"No good havin' you be lonely," he told her. "You get lonely, you… you call me up. Us. Me 'n Jones 'n Baird 'n the lot of us," he clarified. "Girl like you oughtta never be lonely." What was _happening_ with him tonight? Two beers shouldn't have made him this honest.

Her hair fell across her face as she looked down at the tabletop, still smiling. "Thanks, Jake. You're sweet."

"Am not," he said gruffly, trying to recover even a little bit of his cool. "Just your friend, that's all."

Cassandra looked up at him again. "Well, I'm glad to have you as a friend."

Good lord, those big blue eyes. He nearly dissolved. Then he drained his bottle and swallowed hard and said, "I should be gettin' home. Got some readin' to do before bed."

5.

Cassandra was the last to dive through the Back Door into the Annex, tumbling helter-skelter straight into Jake's arms. He held her tightly, keeping her upright, giving her a chance to catch her breath as Jenkins slammed the doors shut behind her. "You're okay, you're okay, you're okay," he was repeating softly into her ear while she shook in his arms. Behind him Ezekiel was laying on the floor, completely winded; Baird leaned down against her own legs, breathing heavily. Jenkins bustled between them, making sure no one had been hurt; slowly they each began to recover. Jake had long scrapes all up one forearm, but he waved Jenkins away, unwilling to let Cassandra go. She had stopped hyperventilating, but she was still a little shaky. He rubbed her back slowly, not moving despite the pain in his legs from running so hard.

Finally Baird straightened up. "I should call Flynn," she said, starting to move despite the obvious discomfort she was in. "I'm sure he'll have some insight." She headed for the hallway, pulling her cell phone out of her pocket.

A moment later Ezekiel rolled onto his stomach and began to crawl towards the hallway as well. "I need something to drink," he croaked, padding on his hands and knees toward the kitchen.

As he left, Cassandra managed to pull herself back from Jake's chest enough to look at him, taking a deep breath. "You're okay?" he said again, questioning this time, searching her face. At such close proximity, she couldn't miss the level of concern he showed, and her heart rate picked right back up.

She nodded, then swallowed and tried to speak. "Yeah, I think I'm okay," she breathed.

"Thank god," he answered quietly. "When I lost your hand back there, I… well, I don't know what I would do if somethin' happened to you."

She pressed her hands into him where they rested on his sweaty back, staring into his face, only inches away. "Jake…" She watched him for a few long moments, eternity-long moments, and he watched her back, unable to quite escape how worried, how _terrified_ he'd been for a few seconds there. She could see it all in his expression. But he didn't move, and after what was either seconds or a lifetime, she dropped her gaze and said, "Thank you." She gave him another quick squeeze and pulled away, hurrying out of the room.

"Mr. Stone," Jenkins said before Jake could leave, but Jake stayed put, watching Cassandra over his shoulder. "Jacob," Jenkins said more sharply, after the first time failed to get Jake's attention. The younger man finally looked over. "Let me see your arm," Jenkins said, raising his eyebrows and beckoning. "Before it gets infected."

Jake approached Jenkins' desk and held his arm out with a bit of a sigh. Wordlessly, Jenkins opened a jar on his desk and began to rub a smelly salve into the scrapes that ran from just below Jake's rolled-up sleeves down to his wrist and the back of his hand.

"She's dying, you know," Jenkins said quietly, just before Jacob could take his arm away. Their eyes met, and Jenkins gave Jacob a very pointed look.

"I'm entirely too aware," Jake answered slowly, frowning. He failed to see the old knight's meaning.

Jenkins sighed. "Young man, I am _hundreds_ of years old. I have watched this dance play out time and time again. I've seen every ending. Every day you put this off is one more day you can't get back."

"I don't know what you're talkin' about," was Jacob's surly answer, taking his arm back and resting his hands in his hoodie pocket.

Jenkins gave him one of those irritated little smiles. "Don't be so stubborn, Jacob. When I point out that Cassandra is dying, I don't just mean you have a shorter timeline to work with than most. I mean that she's too kind-hearted to make it happen for herself. She already knows that we'll have to grieve her long before her time. She won't bring you any more pain than you take on yourself. You took long enough to let her know you were willing to be her friend; you'll never be more than that unless you let her know, beyond the slightest doubt, that you want it."

Jacob regarded the serious older man for a moment, his expression a mixture of irritation and thoughtfulness. He didn't like having his personal business interfered with like this, but…

Jenkins sighed again, heavily. "By god, man, stop wasting time. I've watched too many mortals while away their limited years in worry and fear. Her time is even more limited than that. The two of you have a shot and you have no good excuse in all the world not to take it."

Jake sighed now, too, and looked up at the ceiling, thinking.

 _1._

"Brought you some fuel," Cassandra says quietly, smiling as she places a warm cup of coffee next to Jake's laptop on the table. "How goes the paper?"

"Mm?" he answers vaguely, dragging his eyes away from the screen he's been staring at unproductively for most of the last hour, chin in one hand and fingers over his mouth. In front of him he sees the precise source of his distraction. "Oh. You know. Fine."

Hands wrapped around her mug, the tail of a teabag still draped over one side, Cassandra rounds the end of the table and perches on the stool next to his. "That doesn't sound especially fine. You need to talk your thoughts out?"

She knows him entirely too well. He can't help chuckling lightly against the hand that rests on his face. "I dunno, Cassie, I think I'm doing all right," he fibs.

She smiles at him again, red curls falling over her face as she leans in slightly. "You're going to have to try harder than that if you want to convince me," she tells him quietly.

This time he outright laughs. "You've caught me," he admits. "I'm distracted today."

"What's on your mind?" she answers. "If you don't mind me asking."

"Cassandra…" Jake looks down at his keyboard, still smiling a little, biting his lip thoughtfully behind his hand. There's a long pause, and she waits, curious but patient. "You know I trust you, right?"

She can't help the smile that breaks across her face. Looking down into her tea, stirring it just for something to do, she says slowly, "I thought so. I hoped so. But thank you for telling me, Jake. It's good to hear you say it."

"I should have told you ages ago," he confesses. "But… well, you know. I'm not really a words guy."

"You're an acclaimed academic writer!" she laughs.

"Okay, yes," he concedes with a chuckle. "But that's different from talkin', you know?"

She nods, still grinning. "Yeah, I guess." She doesn't think that's strictly true – not for him, he can certainly be a 'words guy' when he wants – but she indulges him.

"I uh… I just hoped you'd know. And I think maybe you did, but I also think I should've told you at some point. I trust you, and you're one of the closest friends I've ever had, and I'm grateful for that. You know that, right?" He glances quickly at her face and sees her smiling up at him with such pure joy that he nearly sways where he's sitting. He looks at the keyboard again.

"Well, I know now. Thank you," she says quietly. She doesn't know what this has to do with his preoccupation, but it's still good to hear, and she can't stop herself from beaming at him. "You're one of my closest friends, too."

"So you must know by now that I'm a stubborn idiot, right?"

At this she gives him a bemused little frown, tipping her head to one side. "I'm not sure that IQ 190 qualifies as an idiot, stubborn or not," she teases.

He laughs again, still not meeting her eye. "Well, I've been actin' like one," he counters.

"Well, I don't know about-"

He interrupts her by suddenly moving, reaching over and gently taking her tea, placing it on the table before reaching back and taking her hands lightly. "Jake?" she asks as he finally looks into her eyes, turning in his seat to face her properly.

"A smart man does not ignore such a brilliant woman when she spends this long standin' in front of him with open arms," he tells her carefully.

"…Jake?" Cassandra asks again, eyes wide and heart racing.

"I don't know how you can be so patient," he goes on, shaking his head a little. "In your position I doubt I could put up with me for half this long."

"I- I try my best," she stammers uncertainly. "You always… you always struck me as someone I shouldn't push. Better to let you take things at your own speed."

Jake smiles, looking almost embarrassed. Almost smitten. And he tugs gently on Cassandra's hands, pulling her towards him as he leans in to kiss her. It's small, sweet, only a second or two long. Pulling away only a centimetre or so, he murmurs, "That would probably be a major factor in why I fell in love with you."

For a moment she thinks her heart has stopped; her stomach is fluttering like she's never felt it do before in her life. "Jake-"

"I'm sorry it took me so long, darlin'," he tells her, resting his forehead against hers, eyes shut. "I hope you can forgive me."

"Of course I… Jake," she tries again, squeezing his hands hard, suddenly very nervous. "I can't promise you how much time I…"

He squeezes her back. "That's why you set the pace from now on," he tells her. "It took me long enough to get here. So from this point forward you tell me what you want and that's what we'll do. You know, within reason," he adds, suddenly teasing. His grin fading again, he tells her, "I mean it. I took so long buildin' up to this, I'm ready to do it however you want. I want this, I want to be everything you need me to be."

Cassandra is still gripping his hands like a vise, swallowing hard and trying not to cry. "Jake…" she opens her eyes and looks at him, still right next to her face, still smiling at her. "Can you say it again?" she breathes.

He knows what she means. "I'm in love with you, Cassandra." And he leans in and kisses her again, lingering longer this time. She lets go of his hands and puts her arms around his neck, holding him close as if she fears he might otherwise escape.

"I'm in love with you too, Jake," she tells him breathlessly, sliding her fingers into his short hair. He smiles, his hands on her waist.

"Let's not waste any more time then," he tells her. Now that he's finally kissed her he can't seem to stop; he leans back in and she kisses him back happily. It's hard to kiss and smile at the same time, though, and they keep pulling apart just to beam at each other.

"Can I ask?" Cassie finally manages to say. "What brought this up? After all this time, I… I didn't think you were actually interested," she admits.

Jake laughs, still revelling at the feeling of her hands in his hair, his on her sides. "An old knight gave me a stern talking-to," he answers.

She laughs too. "Remind me to thank Jenkins next time I see him."


End file.
